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It started as any party hosted at their home did. With hockey players banging on the front door, the smell of meat on the grill, a fight over the aux cord, and the slow build of a miniature city made of beers and hard liquor on their kitchen table.
Shane and Ilya had decided that they wanted to celebrate their wedding anniversary with their friends. Their found family. The ones that had stood by them when the world seemed to collapse in on itself, and the unacknowledged bigotry of the NHL reared its ugly head. Of course, they would be ~celebrating~ on their own time later, but that was besides the point. They could love loudly now, and what better way to celebrate than with the people who loved them before they could.
The chaos truly began with a toast, Bood climbing on top of his chair, already three beers in, hoisting a shot glass of vodka in the air and proclaiming his love and pride for them. Then, Troy stood up, his shot glass that was previously empty from Bood’s toast magically refilled, to shout about how he loved Ilya and Shane despite his exasperation for their inability to keep it in their pants. It derailed from there, with different people standing, sharing stories of the couple’s love, their skill on the ice, their competitiveness…their house…their pets…Ilya’s thirst tweets. And before Shane knew it, all the hard liquor was gone, and the Centaurs, Hayden, Cliff, and his husband were slurring cheers and unintelligible sentences.
In the end, the majority of the people invited had stumbled back inside to collapse onto comfortable furniture or Uber home. Shane had not drunk that night, so as people were filing out, he had begun to tidy up their kitchen, humming to himself with his heart full of warmth and love for the people he and his husband had surrounded themselves with. His peace was then shattered by a yell on their back porch.
“No YOU are,” a deep Russian-accented voice yelled. Shane sighed to himself, setting down the towel he was wiping the counter with, and began walking towards the voice’s source. Of course, it was Ilya.
“Fuck you Rosanov, YOU are,” and…that was Hayden. Shane picked up his pace. While Ilya and Hayden begrudgingly got along and he trusted them both not to do anything too stupid, it was better to be safe and make sure they weren’t going to kill each other. Shane swung open the door to the back porch and froze, jaw dropping in disbelief.
There stood Ilya in his sexy, drunk glory, pointing at his best friend. His eyes were lit in competitive outrage, swaying slightly from the copious amount of vodka he had ingested. And Hayden stood only a few feet away, mirroring his husband.
“Pike. I understand. Jackie is smart one in the relationship. But you are MY best friend in the whole world,” Ilya proclaimed. Shane genuinely could not believe what he was hearing–or seeing. He has never seen this type of interaction between them. This was unprecedented. Beautiful and heartwarming, even.
It was perfect blackmail.
Before Shane could think, his phone was in his hand recording. No one would ever believe him if he didn’t.
Hayden stalked up to Ilya, stumbling slightly, and poked a finger at his chest.
“I think you are forgetting how to speak English, Rosanov. You are MY best friend in the whole world,” Hayden shouted back. Ilya slapped Hayden’s finger away from him and gave him a light shove.
“Fuck you, Pike, you are MY best friend.”
Hayden shoved him back, both of them stumbling. Ilya launched himself at Hayden, tackling him to the ground. Both of them rolled and began to wrestle each other, alternating between cursing each other out and debating who was THE best friend in the “whole world”. Shane couldn’t help but snort behind his phone at the ridiculousness.
The sound of his snort seemed to break the spell, both of them shooting up and off each other, standing like two children who were about to be scolded.
“Moya lyubov, tell him I’m right,” Ilya whined at him, shooting Hayden a glare. God, his husband was well past drunk if he was whining like that.
“Shane, don’t listen to him. I’M right,” Hayden argued. Shane huffed out a laugh, turning off the recording. He was sending that to Jackie the moment he got Ilya into bed.
“I think you are both able to be each other’s best friend in the entire world. C’mon, get inside. Hayden, I think one of the guest rooms is still open,” Shane said, smirking as he walked up to grab Ilya’s hand and leading them in.
Both followed willingly, continuing their argument in mumbles accentuated by elbows being jabbed into the other’s side. After seeing Hayden collapse on the nearest spare furniture, Shane pulled Ilya up the stairs into their bedroom, where he proceeded to flop down on the bed in a drunk heap after changing out of his clothes. Shane chuckled to himself, shooting the video off to Jackie before following through on his nightly routine and climbing into bed with his husband.
Ilya shifted as the bed dipped, unconsciously moving so he was nestled against Shane’s chest.
“Did you have fun, baby?” Shane asked softly, running his hand through Ilya’s curls. Ilya hummed in response before pulling himself up to plop a wet kiss to Shane’s lips.
“Da, was fun. Hayden is my best friend. I win argument,” Ilya slurred into his chest as he settled back down. Shane smiled down at him.
“I’m sure you did, love. Sleep now. Ya tebya lyublu.”
“Ya tozhe tebya lyublu.”
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Shane shifted over to grab his phone, the sunlight peeking through the blinds in their bedroom window. Despite how drained he was from all the social interaction and not having anything to do, his internal alarm would not let him sleep in. He was sure he could go back to sleep shortly. There were several texts, some of them from teammates letting him know that they had left after crashing at their house. Others were from those who Ubered home, thanking him and Ilya for hosting. The ones that caught his attention were texts from Jackie, Hayden’s wife.
eye
I cannot believe this
Oh my fucking god
Shane this is GOLD
Im crying from laughing Hayden is going to deny this until he dies
Im giving him so much shit for this when he gets home
Shane laughed quietly and set his phone down, turning to snuggle into Ilya. The Russian groaned at the movement, eyes opening blearily to look at him.
“Is too early, Hollander. Go back to sleep,” he grumbled, voice croaky and rough from sleep. He pressed his face harder into Shane’s chest, attempting to hide himself away from the sunshine filtering into their room.
“I will, love. I was just showing Jackie a video of you and Hayden from last night. You guys were calling each other your best friend in the entire world,” Shane said softly, smiling. Ilya glared up at him, and Shane felt his smile widen. And Ilya called him an angry kitten.
“Is lie. Liar told you that. Sleep Hollander. You were hallucinating.” Ilya sniffed. His eyes fluttered close and he was back to snoring as if he had never even woken up.
“Hallucinating,” Shane scoffed, pressing a kiss to Ilya’s head before curling impossibly closer and closing his eyes.
Giving him so much shit, indeed.